Your Family? The Best Family On The Planet!

I love Facebook! It causes all kinds of problems . . . and not just for me! People say what they think and they may not realize how many people see it. You can receive invitations to social events and causes; see who had trouble sleeping or see who is addicted to which game. I have made some friends on Facebook and I have probably lost a few admirers.

A gal who follows my blog and is a co-admirer of my friend, Dr. Carolyn Clansy Miller and who I simply know as 24-Hour-Mom, posted something that really disturbed me this morning.

Please always remember that this whole blog is about a person raised in Toronto, Canada who came to East Texas 13 years ago. There is no way that I have lost my Canadianisms - if you can accept my calling them that.

Toronto is THE most ethnically diverse city in the world - and that includes New York City. Admittedly, when I was much younger, it was quite British and in fact was still a Crown Colony of England until the 60s.

Originally, the immigrants were from other Crown Colonies, in particular England, Ireland and Scotland. When I was a kid, I know there were remarks made about those people. I think the one that sticks in my head was,

"You can always tell an Englishman . . . but not much." One assumes the perception was that they knew everything there was to know and did not respect their new home.

Prejudices have always existed. Every new group who came to America had to listen to racial slurs - in Toronto it was English, Irish, Scottish, Polish, Yugoslovian, Italian, Hungarian. Then people came in from everywhere, just as they have in the United States.

Let us not forget other groups that have been much maligned: gays and overweight people. Since I have been overweight for most of my life, now that I am not, I still find myself thinking as I used to. I forget that I am about the same size as a lot of people and smaller than many. It is just a mindset that stayed with me.

I like to write about topics that are not too controversial - unlike my old friend, Frank Hilliard, whose blog you can access from my main page. I don't know what motivates Frank to write about the stuff he does but Hubby, for one, reads him every day.

I guess the blogger - albeit a great Columnist for low many years - that I admire the most is Leon Hale. Mr. Hale never writes about anything offensive. He talks about simple things and remembrances from his childhood. He is a gentle person who writes gentle stuff and GETS READ!

I hate to write about anything offensive. I guess that is because just turning on the news brings me lots of hate. That's it: I hate hate. Simple?

When I came to East Texas, I found that I was pretty much odd person (ah, yes . . . always try to be politically correct) out. Gee, I befriended Black people whenever I had the opportunity. And, truly, I never really cottoned on (ah, yes, my Dad's old saying and pardon me if you think I meant it as any type of reference or pun) to names like African-American.

So, this morning, 24-Hour Mom asks a general question on Facebook. Basically, she is asking about "blue collar parents" and if they can expect good things for their children.

Unfortunately, I read this before my second cup of coffee and it hit me hard. Then, I started to wonder if she meant this reference to be only a reference to black people?

Hubby came from what I would call a humble family - working class - or blue collar if you must. He was the first in his family to graduate college.

How did he do that? Well, first of all he was smart. Now, mind you when I see how hard it is for us now that we are retired to live on our portfolio, I think about what J.Dee used to tell his son, my Hubby:

"Son, you should think seriously about being a Greyhound bus driver!" (I guess that would have been considered a "blue collar" job.)

I think about that because it makes so much sense. J.Dee had it pretty much down to a science. You see, a Greyhound bus driver had a uniform to wear every day and got to travel a lot. And the best of it? The Greyhound bus driver got a tidy pension and probably a nice gold watch when he retired. I'll bet he got nice medical and maybe even dental insurance as well. And he probably got a reduced rate on bus tickets for the rest of his life!

So, J.Dee, a mechanic for Marathon Oil Company, probably knew what would have been good for his son!

But, no, Hubby held down three jobs while he was in high school in Robinson, Illinois (pop. then 3,600 - 3,800). He thought about being a doctor but then - almost following in his Dad's footsteps - went into Mechanical Engineering.

Hubby had enough money for one semester and if he had not got a scholarship from R.O.T.C., he would not have been able to attend Rose Poly now Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. He worked at the Alpha Tau Omega Frat House as well.

His Dad sometimes had a car to be driven from Indianapolis to Robinson on the weekend and his mother did his laundry. (Hubby would put his laundry on the bus going to Robinson. His mother would wash it and send it back the same way. ) Simpler times perhaps?

Hubby graduated at age 19, and that was only because he broke his arm playing football . . . He was smart and knew how to listen and study.

So, the statement apparently is that 90% of children of blue collar workers will not be able to succeed in this world.

How can that be? Doesn't every parent want the very best for his child. Wouldn't every parent sacrifice and help his child to do his very best? Don't I see funding, scholarships and loans for young people to go to college? Didn't we create Community Colleges so people could ease their way into University life at a lower cost, funded in part by the taxpayers?

Also, I was kind of wondering where exactly the so-called "blue collar" jobs are now? There used to be some at General Motors - remember? (Don't get me going on the greed that spoiled that!)

Parents spending time with their children is probably the most important factor I personally can think about helping children be successful.

Yes, a lot of parents work but they do come back home at night.

When our black neighbor, Otis, died, at his funeral, his son got up and told everyone about his father working at the factory; coming home and spending time with his three children; and then going back into the backyard to fix small engines and work on peoples' lawnmowers and small engines. His Dad meant everything to Bruce and his siblings. Otis was the one who had to sit at the back of the bus - even though he was wearing his military uniform - when he came back from war. He knew the odds were not in his favor but Otis did not let that stop him from raising three wonderful children and living to see some amazing grandchildren!

Sitting down to dinner every evening with your children: that might be number one.

Number two might be welcoming your children's friends into your home. (If they are at your house, you know where they are, don't you. Just bake a batch of cookies and see how quickly you can fill your kitchen with teenagers!)

Next would be asking your children what they did today and if there were any problems. Let you be the first to know if someone bullied them or offered them something you feel is wrong. Ask them what they learned and if there is homework?

I don't care where you work - or perhaps you do not even have a job right now - you care about your children more than life itself. Show them that! Respect them and let them know you respect them. Makes rules and curfews. Show total interest in your children and their friends. Let your house be the gathering place for them.

Every generation and every nationality has had their problems. Do not fall into any stereotypical pattern. Demand the best your children can give and you will be amazed at what they can do.

No matter what your station in life - no matter what your job or your income - your most important job is raising your children to be the very best each one of them can be. Support them, love them, go with them to church, temple or synagogue.

I cannot imagine any thinking person saying that children of so-called blue collar workers do not have a chance in life.

What I can imagine and hope for is parents being totally involved in their children with love, respect and time.

Go ahead, leave a comment. Tell me what you think. Blessings for a fine day with your family today.